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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374224">Tormented Terror</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingtothebesttomorrow/pseuds/lookingtothebesttomorrow'>lookingtothebesttomorrow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Purple Hyacinth - Ephemerys &amp; Sophism (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Regret, Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:07:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,276</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29374224</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingtothebesttomorrow/pseuds/lookingtothebesttomorrow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate version of ep. 43 where maybe Kieran can show a bit more of his humanity.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lauren Sinclair/Kieran White</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tormented Terror</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“KIERAN?!” When Lauren bursts into the cave, her golden eyes are ablaze. She’s out of breath, whether it be from the running or the unadulterated rage coursing through her body. Her hand is already at the pistol on her side, and she scans the cave for Kieran, just about ready to empty its contents into his skull. But when she finally spots him, for the briefest of moments, she forgets her anger.</p><p>Kieran is slumped against one of the walls of the cave, covered head to toe in blood. Two empty bottles of Vodka lay next to him, and all around him are scattered pieces of parchment paper. Some are covered in blood, rendering them illegible. However, when Lauren steps closer and glances down at a couple, she can easily decern some of the pictures sketched on each piece of paper. Some are landscapes, others are of everyday moments in life. However, there are two pictures that catch her attention. One of them is a re-creation of the night spent in Kieran’s apartment. She doesn’t know if the bright smile drawn on her face was actually real, or a personal touch he had added. But the other is one she assumes to be from the Tower. Dozens of bloodied bodies cover the paper in graphic detail, and at the bottom of the paper is one word. <strong><em>WHY?</em></strong></p><p>“Kieran.” When Lauren hears her own voice, she’s surprised that the anger seems to have vanished. He’s motionless. “Kieran?!” Lauren bends down, and for a moment wonders if he’s even still alive – he’s completely motionless, and there’s dried blood everywhere. She reaches for his neck, intending to check for his pulse. But suddenly, his hand flashes up and catches her wrist. Slowly, he raises his head, and their eyes meet. And the emptiness Lauren sees in them truly frightens her.</p><p>“Lauren?” he breathes out. Not officer, not darling, not sweetheart. ‘Lauren.’ The grip around her wrist disappears, and his hand goes to his face. “Why are you here?”</p><p>“I…” For a second, she’d actually forgotten the reason she’d even come to the cave – seeing him like this, seeing him so vulnerable, so broken, forced something inside her to shift. “I… Kieran, the tower…”</p><p>At the mention of the incident, both Kieran’s hands begin trembling. His other hand comes to his face, joining the one already there, and an unconvincing smile comes over his exposed mouth. “Of course,” he says, his voice failing to find its usual playful tone. “Am I famous yet?” Just like his hands, his voice trembles uncontrollably. “<strong>I had so much fun.”</strong></p><p>Gently, Lauren reaches out and rests her hand on Kieran’s shoulder. Kieran barely moves, his only reaction being to push his hair out of his face, but the fact that he doesn’t recoil sends waves of concern into the pit of her stomach. Lauren knows she should be seething right now; she should be pushing his neck into the wall and demanding for answers. But at the sight of his broken state, she can’t find it in herself to vent at him. Gently, she hooks her hand under his arm. “Come on,” she says in a soft tone. “Let’s get the blood off you.”</p><p>Kieran doesn’t protest as Lauren pulls him off the wall and guides him into the chair. In fact, he doesn’t do much of anything. At her command, he sheds his coat and attempts to use the wet towel she hands him to wipe the dried blood from his face. The metallic sent of iron wafts through the air as the blue towel is dyed red. However, as time goes on, Kieran’s hand begins shaking so badly that the mess on his face gets worse, not better. As he moves the towel to his cheek, Lauren finds herself resting her hand over his, stopping him. And again, without any protest, she takes the towel from his grip and cleans off the remaining blood herself.</p><p>“Are you hurt?” she asks as she wipes down his neck.</p><p>“No,” Kieran answers, the word clipped. Lauren nods and breathes a sigh of relief. Physically, he’s fine at least. For several minutes, there aren’t any more words exchanged. Lauren helps Kieran to clean off the blood, then directs him to change clothes. Like an empty puppet, he does exactly what she says, and through the whole thing he never once lifts his gaze to meet hers.</p><p>When he’s finally clean, Kieran once again slumps against the wall, curling himself into a ball. And as his head returns to his hands, Lauren finds herself taking a seat in front of him.</p><p>“Did the leader order you to do it?” It’s a pointless question, but it’s a question all the same. Kieran nods once. “When?”</p><p>“Three days ago.”</p><p>Lauren’s taken aback. “<em>Why didn’t you tell me</em>?”</p><p>Another fake smile finds its way onto Kieran’s face. “<strong>I didn’t want you to stop me from having my fun,” </strong>he responds, his tone getting closer to what it normally is. <strong> <br/>“Us monsters can’t go too long without killing. It’s bad for our health.”</strong></p><p>“Kieran…” the concern in Lauren’s voice surprises both of them.</p><p>Kieran raises his head to meet her eyes. His guarded gaze, the one that she had become so accustomed too, is slowly making a comeback. This both relieves and worries Lauren. “I didn’t realize I was obligated to report all my activities to you,” he says. “This was Phantom Scythe business. <strong>It had nothing to do with you.</strong>”</p><p>“We both know that isn’t true,” Lauren says, her voice hardening. Some of her anger from before is beginning to resurface. “Did you know it would turn out this way?! Did you know we were sentencing them to death?!”</p><p>Kieran lowers his gaze. <strong>“Yes.”</strong></p><p>Lauren frowns. “Why are you lying to me?”  </p><p>
  <strong>“Because I…”</strong>
</p><p>“Kieran…!”</p><p>Kieran drops his head, and the emptiness once again fills his gaze. “Because there was no other way,” he finally replies, his voice that of a man who’s tired of fighting. “If they suspect, they’ll eventually figure out about you, and then we’re both dead.”</p><p>Lauren balls her hands into fists. “Still, you should’ve told me.”</p><p>“This responsibility isn’t for you to bare,” he says softly. His voice is barely audible, but Lauren can hear the underlying message all the same. <em>The guilt isn’t yours to bare. </em></p><p>The message leaves Lauren speechless for several moments. “Wrong,” she finally says. The one word is firm, unquestionable. “We both put them in there, remember?” Lauren reaches out, hooking her fingers under Kieran’s chin, forcing his gaze to meet hers’. “We’re partners, aren’t we?” she asks, raising the hand she had cut the night of their deal. “The responsibility falls on both of us.”</p><p>Kieran tries to turn his head, to look away, but the grip on his chin doesn’t let him. “We’re partners,” Lauren says again, her tone softening. “So please… stop trying to do it all on your own.” <em>Stop trying to protect me.</em> When had they become like this? When had he become willing to sell his soul to spare hers? When had she become willing to share the weight of his sins to save his humanity?</p><p>Kieran closes his eyes, and for what has the be at least the tenth time that night, Lauren is surprised; a single tear leaks from Kieran’s right eye and streaks down his cheek. When he attempts to drop his head, this time, Lauren lets him. And she scoots forward, resting one hand over his while using the other one to guide his head onto her shoulder. “It’s okay,” she tells him as he slumps against her. “It’s okay.”</p>
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